The Thieves, the Deceivers and the Sowers of Discord

Thwarted by the trickery at which Hell's minions are so adept, Virgil and Dante struggle up the vast escarpment which leads forth to the seventh of the Rotten Pockets of the penultimate Circle of Hell (for the previous instalment in this saga, please click here). Drained to exhaustion by the journey, it is with tremendous effort that the two poets drag themselves to the towering crest. After a few words of encouragement from Virgil, with one last heave, Dante clears the summit and finds himself on a slender bridge over a vast gorge, its inky blackness hiding all but faint cries emanating from the blackened depths.

The Thieves
Engraving by Gustave Doré

Overcome with curiosity, Dante stoops, desperate to catch word of the voices far below. But it is in vain, all he can discern is that whoever it is that speaks must be running swiftly. Turning to his master, he begs to know, and the two descend into the murky pit. Coming to the edge of a steep bank, a hideous sight greets their eyes. The souls of sinners, naked and terrified, run across the valley floor, desperate to seek cover which is not there. For the ground is coated in the writhing coils of countless serpents, some far mightier in size than any snake which makes the Earth above its home. The hands of many are bound in the serpentine coils, and yet more are wrapped around their limbs. Just then, the figure of a man sprints past our poets in fear, as a snake rears its great head, its eyes fixed upon him. In a flash as though of lightning, the serpent lunges, its aim true as it strikes the man, murderous fangs piercing his neck. Another flash, and the sinner erupts in flames, a heap of crumbling ash left in his wake. As though a phoenix, soon the man rises anew from the ashes. Sensing Dante's bewilderment, Virgil calls out to the soul, questioning him as to his presence here. "Not too long ago I rained from Tuscany", the man replies, a man named Vanni Fucci, who once stole from the sacristy of Pistoia. Bitter and angry at his fate, Fucci rises up and curses God, but briefly, as a swarm of spitting snakes descends upon him, binding him so tightly that not a muscle can move. Alerted to the blasphemy within his domain, a fierce monster gallops towards them, a raging centaur, his back alive with serpents. Virgil turns to Dante and declares the creature to be Cacus, the famous giant who in the most ancient times once prowled the Aventine Hill, one of the Seven great Hills of that would one day give birth to Rome. Having once stolen a herd of precious cattle, Cacus was slain by Heracles, another foul beast conquered underneath that club. Now he rules over the thieves in Hell.


Three tortured souls suddenly see our two poets looking down upon them. "Who are you two?" one calls out to them. But the spirit pays dearly for his moment's distraction. A colossal snake pounces upon him, binding him in six coils. With a pitiful whimper, the sinner's flesh begins to melt, and the serpent and the man soon become as one, fused into a hideous chimaera. Moaning softly, the soul ambles off into the blackness. The second accursed man is soon seized by another creature, and the man transforms into the snake, and the snake to he. Wisely, the third man flees in fear, destined to continue this deadly game for eternity. For herein lies the true horror of the plight of thieves in Hell. Just as they stole the material things of men in life, now their very identity is taken from them in Hell.

The Deceivers
Engraving by Gustave Doré

Hurrying along the Rotten Pocket, Dante bemoans the sheer number of Florentines he has seen here in Hell. Arriving at the crest of a new valley, our pilgrims look down into the eighth of the Rotten Pockets of the Eighth Circle of Hell. Suddenly reminded of the fireflies rising to the night sky, Dante looks down into the abyss. For this valley is not shrouded in blackness, but shimmers brightly with many brilliant flames. Each flame blusters about the pit, blazing brightly, too brightly to reveal what each holds inside. Virgil turns to his protégé and explains the sorry fortunes of this place, for within each burning conflagration is bound a soul, each swathed in fiery doom. Suddenly spotting a flame with two heads, our inquisitive poet asks what is behind this peculiar fate. Within this flame, Virgil explains, are bound Ulysses (Odysseus) and Diomedes, two great heroes from ancient times, who now suffer jointly in Hell (for the feats of Diomedes, please click here). Both men conceived the trick that spelled the doom for proud Troy. Spurning the valour of arms on the open field, cunning Ulysses and powerful Diomedes turned to malicious fraud to achieve their victory, a sin for which they now burn in Hell. Dante yearns to speak to the heroes of yore, but Virgil intercedes. These men hail from an era long gone, an era which Virgil himself once saw in life, and only he may commune with them. The blazing flame approaches, and the higher of its two peaks flickers, and begins to speak. The voice is that of Ulysses, and the hero tells the tale of his last great voyage over the sea, far beyond the boundaries of the known world. Eager to seek what lay beyond the Western Ocean, his crew rowed for five days and nights, until a fell tempest blasted their ship upon the slopes of Mount Purgatory. Ulysses is overcome by grief at his memories, as another flame approaches.


Recognising the accent of Lombardy which Virgil speaks so well, the flame begs to know of the plight of Romagna, is it in peace or war?  This time, Virgil encourages Dante to speak, proficient in the Italian tongue as he is. For the flame chains within the soul of Guido da Montefeltro, once a great Lord of Urbino and warrior to the Pope. Romagna is still the prey to the savages of war, Dante sadly informs him, as Ravenna's land still seeks peace. Dante asks Guido if he will tell him his story in return. The soul mournfully declares that if he thought Dante had any chance of returning to the land of the living, he would not, but since all who enter Hell never leave, he will do so this once. With bitter fury, Guido reveals that he would have joined the heavenly host, pious friar and loyal defender as he was, but for the machinations of Pope Boniface VIII, whose name he curses in Hell. As the Pope once warred with Palestrina seemingly without end, Guido had advised him to offer amnesty, and then renege upon it after the surrender. The stratagem worked, and the fortress fell, as the papal troops razed it to the ground. Horrified at the slaughter, Guido entered the order of St Francis of Assisi, becoming a devout Franciscan. As the years took their toll, and the spirit of Guido left his body, St Francis came for him, but woe! A cruel cherub of Hell got there first, and dragged him to the fiery depths. For here are punished those who received the gifts of wisdom, but use them for malicious ends, a fate Dante feels great sorrow for. But the hour grows late once more, and our two poets make for the penultimate Rotten pocket of the Eighth Circle of Hell:


                         " Who could, even in the simplest kind of prose
                                   describe in full the scene of blood and wounds
                                   that I saw now - no matter how he tried!
             
                           Certainly any tongue would have to fail:
                                   man's memory and man's vocabulary
                                   are not enough to comprehend such pain. "
                                                        - THE SOWERS OF DISCORD

The Sowers of Discord
Engraving by Gustave Doré

With a shudder of nausea at the grotesque sight before him, Dante reasons that if all the slain from battles past, from wars waged on Italy's fertile plains, were piled high, the sight would be nothing compared with this. For the souls of the damned here have a terrible fate, as their corporeal forms are ripped asunder. As the souls run in chaos and agony, there stand above them horned daemons, each rending flesh with a violent swipe of their cruel blades. Before Dante's very eyes, one soul desperately sprints past, fleeing a daemon behind. But alas, another in front slices him open, spilling his guts onto the filthy floor. As Dante looks upon the man in pity, the soul looks up and the two gaze upon each other. He reveals himself to be Muhammed, the prophet of Islam, deformed and torn in this cruel land. Before him flees Ali, his son-in-law, fleeing the murderous blades. Muhammed explains that all here were condemned to this realm for spreading discord and schism in life (Dante viewed Islam as itself a breakaway faith of Christianity, and condemns Ali for his division of Islam into the Sunni and Shi'a sects). Just as they tore apart societies in life, now they are themselves torn asunder in Hell. Each soul runs a deadly circuit through the Pocket, their wounds slowly healing, only for them to be ripped open once again when they reach the beginning. Muhammed warns Dante of the others still alive on Earth that they are heading for a similar fate, the heretical preacher Fra Dolcino being one of them. The deadly guardians closing in, Muhammed takes flight once again. More shouts, and more souls thunder by, many of them Italians. Gaius Scribonius Curio, the man who advised Julius Caesar to cross the Rubicon and make war on Rome, approaches, though he is mute, for a vengeful daemon has severed his tongue. Another soul, headless, bearing its severed head as though a lantern, calls out to them, daring them to look on at his "monstrous punishment". The decapitated man reveals that he was once Bertran de Born, the man who encouraged the young Prince Henry to raise arms against his own father, King Henry II of England.

Despairing, Dante wonders how many more people he will see in Hell that he recognises. As the two poets begin their journey to the final Rotten Pocket, Dante is left pondering, what dread fate awaits those condemned to the very bottom of Hell, and what manner of crime will earn a being a place there?

United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:
Dante: Inferno (Penguin Classics)
(A nice version which has both the Italian and English text)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(Well annotated and readily accessible, including the entire Divine Comedy)

United States

Penguin Classics:
The Divine Comedy: Volume 1: Inferno (Penguin Classics) (Pt. 1)
(A nice version which has both the Italian and English text)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(Well annotated and readily accessible, including the entire Divine Comedy)